Ovid

There was no pleading in her voice. Nothing beyond the words themselves. I nodded, and felt like five different kinds of rat.

The old lady took a firm grip of the arm of her chair. I noticed that her fingers tightened and slackened spasmodically. Whatever the impression of calmness she wanted to convey she wasn't finding this easy. Like I said, Quinctilia had guts.

'I knew nothing of Publius's…arrangement with Aemilius Paullus,' she said. 'Let alone with the Divine Augustus. However, as you have described the situation it seems eminently probable and agrees well with what I do know. Publius was a traitor, certainly. But I had always thought his treachery arose from greed, not political ambition. It appears now that I was wrong. Or rather it appears that love of money may not have been his only motive.'

'Aunt Quinctilia, I really think you should reconsider this.' Asprenas laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shook her head.

'It's better that Valerius Corvinus knows everything,' she said. 'Bring him the letter, Lucius. Please.'

Fat Face wasn't happy. I could see that. He gave me a look like he might something very dead and very rotten that his dog had dug up and left the room. Quinctilia turned back to me.

'My brother was always greedy, even as a child,' she said. 'He had to have the biggest slice of cake, the stickiest sweet on the plate. When he grew up it was money, of course. He should have been prosecuted after Syria, but then he was married to Augustus's grand-niece. And my late husband's father being the emperor's half-sister…' She hesitated. 'Well, I realise these things shouldn't happen, but they do.'

'You mean the emperor intervened?'

'Not as such, no. Augustus was always careful not to play favourites, at least overtly. But the relationships were sufficiently well known to cause a certain…reluctance, shall we say, to prosecute. Besides. Publius got on extremely well with the emperor, and he was a very capable administrator.'

'Except in Germany.'

Agron growled something I didn't catch, but the old lady ignored it.

'Except, as you say, in Germany; but of course there was a reason for that, as you know.'

'He'd been bribed by Paullus to let things slide.'

'Indeed? Two reasons, then.'

I was puzzled. Something, somewhere, didn't add up. 'Lady, you've lost me. If that wasn't the reason you had in mind then what else was there?’

'It's very simple.' The old girl's filmy eyes held mine. 'Publius may well have been involved with the Julian faction, for all I know. But as Augustus's governor in Germany he was certainly taking money from Arminius.'

I sat back. This was a twist I hadn't thought of; but given the old guy's character it made sense, a lot of sense. Having the Roman governor on the payroll would've been a real coup for the Germans, and Arminius would've been happy to pay through the nose for the privilege. Meanwhile Varus could report to the conspirators that he was fulfilling his part of the deal to destabilise Germany for Julia and Postumus. As a plan it was beautiful. Maximum returns, minimum risk. With two paying clients, neither knowing of the other's existence, a goldmine that would set him up for life. And if things did go wrong the most he could be charged with was poor governorship.

Except that in the end things hadn't just gone wrong. The conspiracy had bombed and Arminius had cancelled out on any arrangement he'd made with a vengeance.

'You know this for a fact, Quinctilia?' I said. 'That Varus and Arminius had a deal going?'

'Of course. The proof came from Numonius Vela. He died with Publius, naturally, but before the army had left the Weser he had passed it on to me. Vela was a good friend of the family, and of my brother. I will always be grateful that he chose me as the recipient of the information rather than the emperor.'

Yeah. Sure. Vela might've died with Varus but I remembered what Agron had said about him running out on the old man when things got tough. With that kind of friend who needs enemies? I wondered if Quinctilia knew; but then she probably did. The old girl didn't miss much.

Just then Asprenas came back carrying a worn-looking message tablet. He handed it without a word to his aunt. I thought she'd open it but she didn't. Instead she passed it straight to me.

'Before you ask, young man,' she said, 'there is no possibility of forgery. The handwriting is quite certainly my brother's.'

I undid the fragile lacings and opened the tablet. The wax surfaces were in good condition although the writing was cramped: the guy had had a lot to say and not much room to say it in. Like she'd said, it was a letter, and at first glance I didn't see anything strange about it except that the usual first line giving the names of sender and addressee was missing. It was bread-and-butter admin stuff, general-to-staff: a list of forces and their order of march, together with details of the route to be taken, including the all-important detour…

I stopped.

Including the all-important detour!

Shit! Quinctilia had said that Vela had sent her the tablet before the army left the Weser. And at that point Varus had known nothing of any trouble to the south. Which meant…

Feverishly, I skimmed through the rest of the text. At the bottom of the second page my eyes came skidding to a halt. Even when they'd read the last sentence twice I couldn't believe what they were telling me:

I suggest that the attack be made at this point since it will restrict the movements of my cavalry and provide me with a reasonable excuse for withdrawal.

Varus had known! He'd known all the time!

'You see the implications, of course,' Quinctilia said softly.

'Varus was in league with Arminius.' I still hadn't taken this in. 'He set the massacre up himself.'

'Correct. Vela had suspected Publius for some time. How he came by that letter I don't know. But I do know that it is genuine.'

'But this is crazy!' I held up the message tablet. 'You're telling me that Varus arranged his own death?'

'No,' Asprenas said. 'Of course not. You'll notice that my uncle mentions a withdrawal. An ambush was arranged, certainly. But not the massacre itself.'

I thought about that. Yeah, it would make sense. Especially if the guy thought he had a standing deal. 'Varus and Arminius had agreed on a military embarrassment? A limited defeat?'

'That's right.' Asprenas nodded. 'Arminius gets the kudos and my uncle provides the emperor with an excuse for a change of policy. Expansion of the empire as such beyond the Rhine is too risky to attempt. The territory is difficult to police, the natives intractable, and the forces for a long-term occupation unavailable. Under the circumstances it wouldn't be hard to persuade Augustus to rest content with what he had, especially if he knew Arminius to be a secret sympathiser.'

'You think the emperor knew, then? That Varus was acting under instructions?'

'No.' Asprenas shook his head. 'I would like to say that, Corvinus, but no. This was a private arrangement between Arminius and my uncle. Perhaps, had he known of it, Augustus would have approved, but he did not.'

'So Varus had agreed to let Arminius grab himself a little glory? Only Arminius took the idea one step further.' It made sense. Too much sense. 'He let the arrangement stand but doublecrossed Varus at the last minute. What was supposed to be a limited military action became a full-scale attack and three whole legions went down the tube.'

'Correct.'

'But the old guy must've suspected something, surely. He was taking a hell of a risk relying on Arminius to pull his punches like that, and he was no fool.'

Asprenas shrugged. 'I'm not my uncle,' he said. 'I can't say what his reasons were. He knew Arminius well. Maybe he had a blind spot for him, trusted him just that bit too much. The man was no ordinary native, remember. He was Roman-educated and Roman-trained. He would have known the right words and the right arguments to use. Most important, we don't know what my uncle was promised in return.'